A Evening at Isengard
by Kasaili
Summary: One shot. Complete. Modern girl spends some time at Isengard. It's not as cliched as it sounds. Please read and review.


Disclaimer – Nothing to do with the Lord of the Rings belongs to me. It all belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien. Especially the direct quotes from Chapter 8 of The Two Towers, The Road to Isengard.  
  
A/N – This idea is probably way overdone but it was a plot idea that just wouldn't go away. Any feedback would be welcome.  
  
'This page cannot be displayed,' read my computer screen. "Gah" I muttered to myself. "Not again." One of my favourite Lord of the Rings fan websites had gone down. It was very frustrating sometimes. I had been reading something too. After checking another website to make sure that it was only that one – which it was – I decided that there wasn't anything else to do online. Realizing how late it really was, I closed all my windows and left the den.  
  
"Wow, Lara's actually away from the computer," my mother said to my sister as I walked into the kitchen "I was beginning to think she'd grown roots."  
  
My sister laughed in agreement. "What happened? Get bored with that Lord of the Rings stuff?"  
  
"No," I replied primly "The website crashed. I'll never get bored with the Lord of the Rings."  
  
"You know, I hate to break it to you, but," she lowered to voice to a whisper "it's just a book. It's not real."  
  
"That shows how much you know," I said. "It's more than just a book in the hearts and minds of the millions of people who have read it."  
  
She snorted. I cringed internally, even to me I sounded fake. I knew it wasn't real. I knew it was just a book. And three movies. And multiple websites. And I think I heard something about a TV show. But just because I had a borderline obsession with it all, didn't mean that I thought it was real. I wasn't delusional. "I didn't come here to get teased. I'm going to bed." I hugged my mum and headed up the stairs.  
  
Ten minutes later I was tucked into bed but I soon realized that sleep wasn't coming to me. Flicking on my bedside lamp, I reached for the copy of The Two Towers I kept beside my bed. I took out my bookmark and began to read. "'Welcome, my lords, to Isengard!' he said. 'We are the door- wardens. Meriadoc, son of Saradoc is my name; and my companion, who, alas! is overcome with weariness' – here he gave the other a dig with his foot – 'is Peregrin, son of Paladin, of the house of Took. Far in the North . . .'" was as far as I had gotten when I heard a loud thump! coming from downstairs. My curiosity piqued, I replaced my bookmark and got out of bed, still holding the book. As I opened my bedroom door I felt this wave of . . . disorientation was over me. Everything got blurry for a minute and it was like my head was spinning.  
  
When my vision cleared, I was not standing at the top of stairs like I was supposed to be. Instead I was outside looking at a large pile of rock. It was just sitting there, as if someone had knocked part of a wall down and just left the debris right when it fell. And sure enough, as I looked to my left I could see that at least part of the wall was still standing further down. And it all seemed sort of familiar.  
  
Now maybe I've read too many science fiction books in addition to the Lord of the Rings but all of a sudden I knew what had happened. Don't get me wrong I didn't believe it, but I knew what was happening, if it really was happening. Which it wasn't, because this kind of thing didn't happen for real. "Stop babbling," I told myself aloud, as sternly as I could. "There is a logical explanation for all this. You were reading the Two Towers when you fell asleep. Since you practically have the book memorized your subconscious is simply continuing the storyline. It's a dream." But if this were a dream, the subconscious in question argued, where's Merry? Where's Pippin? Where's the rest of the Fellowship? They should be right there, swapping stories and smoking pipeweed.  
  
I looked around but there was no one in sight. So much for a logical explanation. I tried to remember every book I had read that used spontaneous travel to alternate universes as a plot device and luckily there were quite a few. It seemed that in most of them, a person was supposed to stumble across some locals and inquire awkwardly – without revealing where you were from and who you were – where you were now. Well I was one up on that; I already knew where I was. But I didn't fancy going up to Orthanc's front door and asking if I could have a tour. I could only imagine what Saruman . . . Saruman! How could I have forgotten? I obviously wasn't where I'd left off the book, so when was I? If it was before the fall of Isengard, the place could be swarming with Orcs. Even if the main army had left for Helm's Deep already there was sure to still be a defense garrison around. I listened very carefully. There was no sounds coming from the tower, and I didn't smell smoke or anything industrial. I decided it was worth the risk to try and find someone, and scrambled over the rock pile and into the inside of the ring.  
  
Remember, I thought, look like you belong and people won't stop you. Or so I had read somewhere. I was walking along confidently, hoping I looked like I belonged, when I felt a hand clamp down on my shoulder and spin me around.  
  
"What do we have here? A spy of Saruman?" the owner of that hand said.  
I knew who it was instantly, but I was still so surprised that I said the first thing that came out of my mouth. Which unfortunately was "You don't look much like Viggo Mortenson." Brilliant Lara. Absolutely brilliant.  
  
"Who?" The hand on my shoulder tightened slightly.  
  
"No one," I said hastily, trying to correct my mistake. "No one at all. Sorry." I became aware that the other members of the fellowship were standing around me. Except for Gandalf; I guessed he was off with Theoden.  
  
"Who are you and why are you here?" Aragorn said.  
  
I said the first thing that came to mind, "My name is Lara and I'm here to see Gandalf." It was not such a foolish thing to say. The goal of every book hero was to find a way home and there was no one better to do that than a wizard.  
  
"Why?"  
That's a good question, I thought. Knowing that if I told the truth, he'd probably just think I was some insane freak, I said the first thing I could think of. "It is said: Do not meddle in the affairs of wizards, for they are subtle and quick to anger." I looked him straight in the eye and thanked my lucky stars that Frodo wasn't there to recognize that I was quoting directly from Gildor in the Fellowship.  
  
"True." Aragorn nodded. "Come then, and we will see if Gandalf will speak with you."  
  
Meekly I followed Aragorn towards the citadel, the rest of the fellowship following shortly behind. I could feel them all looking at me, but I didn't glance behind. Soon I saw a horse and rider approaching and Aragorn stopped. It was Gandalf.  
  
"Treebeard and I have made our plans, and now we must go on. I hope you have rested well," he said. For the first time he noticed me. "Who is this?"  
  
"She says her name is Lara," Aragorn replied. "She claims to have business with you."  
  
"Does she?" he said looking down at me from atop Shadowfax. "I cannot meet with her now. I must go and speak to Saruman."  
  
"And we will go with you," said Gimli, speaking f or the first time.  
  
"As you will," said Gandalf and he turned Shadowfax towards the tower.  
  
I felt Aragorn at my side. He nodded at me and I turned in the direction of the tower as well. When we got there it was decided that Merry, Pippin and I would stay at the bottom of the stairs, while the others went up. I was not consulted in the matter and I kept quiet. In all honesty, I had no desire to meet Saruman face to face.  
  
As we waited for the others to climb the stairs Pippin, in an effort to be friendly, commented on the book I still held. "What's that?" he asked.  
  
Something told me that I should not go bragging about having the future written down in front of me. "It's my journal," I said. "I write my thoughts down in it."  
  
"Can I see?" he asked.  
  
"No," I said hastily, searching for a way to change the subject. Luckily, the others had reached the stop of the stairs and we three at the bottom fell silent listening.  
  
I paid close attention to what was being said and I was ready when the palantir got cast down the stairs. Even though I knew what it was, I didn't move and simply watched as Pippin chased after it. Oh Pippin, I thought. You're going to regret that in the morning.  
  
When Gandalf came down the stairs he said "I must go and speak with Treebeard and tell him how it has gone. But first I will speak with the girl. Go," he told the others. "I will speak with her privately." Accordingly the others left, though for a minute I thought Aragorn was going to disagree. But he left without a word, and Gandalf and I were alone. "Now then," he said kindly "I trust you do not have an idle reason to speak with me."  
  
"No." I said. "You could say I have a bit of a problem." With that I spilled the entire story, omitting nothing. Somehow I felt it wouldn't be right to lie to Gandalf.  
  
After I had spilled my guts to him, he stood back and looked at me. "And what is it you wish me to do Lara?"  
  
"Well I figured that if anyone could send me home, it'd be you." I said. "I mean, you are a wizard."  
  
"Do you think me all powerful?"  
  
"Well, no." I hesitated. "Does that mean you can't send me home?"  
  
"I never said that." he looked at me with a glint in his eye. "In fact it really is quite simple."  
  
"It is?"  
  
"How do you think you got here?"  
  
"I told you," I said impatiently. "I don't know. One minute I was home and the next I was here. I didn't do anything. I was just reading . . ." I trailed off. You were reading The Two Towers. And then you were here. "This is not some corny fantasy movie," I said aloud. "It's not a magic book."  
  
"Perhaps magic is in the eye of the beholder," Gandalf replied. "It's quite a concept, don't you think?"  
  
I glanced down at the book I still had in my hand and I wondered how I was to go about doing this. I looked back at Gandalf but his look gave nothing away. "I suppose it's worth a shot," I said.  
  
He nodded. And then he smiled at me. "It has been nice meeting you Lara. May Eru guide you home."  
  
"Thank-you," I replied politely. "Good luck with the war."  
  
Nodding once again, he turned Shadowfax back to where I figured Treebeard was waiting, leaving me alone. I turned back toward the wall where I had 'appeared.' I figured that was the best place to try anything. When I got there I sat down where I guessed that Merry and Pippin would have sat. I opened my book to where I had left off and continued reading. "'Far in the North is our home. The Lord Saruman is within; but at the moment he is closeted with one Wormtongue, or doubtless he would be here to welcome such honourable guests.'"  
  
I hadn't gotten any farther than that when the spinning started. Here we go again, I thought. The disorientation washed over me once again. As soon it passed over I went bump and found myself sitting on my hallway floor.  
  
"Lara?" my mum asked from the bottom of the stairs. "Are you all right?"  
  
"Yes Mum." I said. I scrambled to my feet, picking up my book. For a moment I wondered if I should tell her about my adventure, but I decided against it. She'd never have believed me. "Sorry for making so much noise."  
  
I went back to my room and opened The Two Towers. But as soon as I had done so, I closed it again. There was no sense taking any chances. I put it back on my shelf and turned my light out. There was no sense taking any chances. 


End file.
